December 4, 2009

Miley Cyrus greasing the climby pole at the Teen Video Awards — cellulite at 16? Too many potato chip’n’banana on Wonder bread sandwiches back at the trailer, methinks.

Just a little reminder, parents buying Christmas gifts for daughters and nieces: don’t buy from godless transnational Disney Corp. and its best-known brand, Miley Cyrus, a.k.a. Hannah Mountana-from-behind. The daughter of no-talent assclown and sometime male stripper Billy Ray Cyrus (a one-hit wonder known for his moving, lyrical “Leaky Reeky Fart” or something like that), Cyrus teaches young women to have self-esteem if they’re emotionally secure and work hard at studies and sports.

Just kidding! If they work the pole in whore’s drawers — please, Miley, the world doesn’t want to be your gynecologist — and ask men to treat them as objects to scratch itches on. Because, of course, men need that encouragement. If the hosebeast daughter ever covers Daddy’s one witless hit, it’ll doubtless become “Itchy Twitchy Twat.” ‘Cause that’s just the high caliber ofartist [sic] she is.

In this connection, you must, must, if you haven’t already, see the scintillating South Park season 13 episode “The Ring,” complete with brief Wagner allusion at the end for those of us who don’t have a beautician girlfriend to beat when she scratches the Camaro (admittedly a tiny percentage of Trey and Matt’s audience — we few, we happy few…). It satirizes the absurd “purity ring” phenomenon peddled by Disney’s other pretend-wholesome musical phenom, faggy boy band The Jonas Brothers. “Mr. Mouse” beats down when they cross his plan to “sell sex to little girls”:

And so, dear believers, we are — if we sit there and let Disney Corp. and the rest of the Hollywood soft-core porn industry, the immensely rich and immensely evil Michael Eisners and Steven Spielbergs and Sumner Redstones, pipe their sewage directly into our living rooms day after day, night after night on The Disney Channel and the rest of their media outlets. And all the while our grade-school girls sit there transfixed with their souls turning to sludge. Please, Mom and Dad — buy your girls something else this Christmas.